Changeling
by Twisted Trans-Sister
Summary: When a curse gives birth to a demon baby, Olivia's parents strike a deal with the BPRD to keep her away from human life. Bitter and angry, she escapes with the BPRD in hot pursuit. How can one prevail in light when they have never tried? AbexOC
1. Prolouge

The Changeling: A Hellboy story

Summary: When a curse gives birth to a demon baby, Olivia's parents strike a deal with the BPRD to keep her away from human life. Bitter and angry, she escapes with the BPRD in hot pursuit. How can one prevail in light when no one lets them try? AbexOC

Prolouge:

Birth is a beautiful thing. The beginning of a new life, recreating man without the expense or technology of advanced biological machines and ten times simpler. The miracle of life is so astounding, it is celebrated every year, known as a birthday where family and friends cheer for the life of one so luckily brought into this world.

But that is not always the case.

One such case was with Mr. and Mrs. Lowan, noted archaeologists. They had traveled the world in search of the truth, what history left behind. It gave them great joy to hold a piece of history in their hands whenever they visited places like Brazil, Egypt, or China. Their curiousity knew no boundaries. And when Mrs. Lowan soon became expectant of a baby, they could only be content with cooing over the swelling belly as they kept working, thinking about a new home, a new school, and which college she should graduate from with a major in History. It was not meant to be.

They were estatic. Mrs. Lowan was already six months along and they were both comissioned by their college to investigate a pagan temple found in the wild mountains of England. It was completely unknown before then, and it piqued their interest immensely. They packed their bags quickly and set off for London. Upon approaching the temple, they noticed it to be entrancing to the mind. Horned beings sprung grotesquely from the stone walls, vines slithered like snakes up stone pillars, and it oozed a sense of mystique and history. They were unhesitant to enter. The murals chipped ancient paint, depicting vastly descriptive paitings of many strange satyr-like beings. They had curled horns, like a ram, and the bottom half of a goat. Some showed them fighting with strange, staff-like clubs, with heavy brass knobs to knock in the skulls of their foes. Others showed them making off with handsome humans, or dancing while greedily gulping down vast quantities of wine. They were wild, mad, beings to be certain. Could they have stumbled onto a completely different race?

Their next step, however, signalled the end of their adventurous careers.

They finally reached the main chamber, with an altar and statue depicting a giant god, half man, half ram. He held the largest of all their staffs, with a gigantic gold knob, shaped like a ram's head. The knob on the statue even looked like it was stained with blood. No sooner had the Lowans crossed the threshold of the passageway did it slam shut. They quaked in fear as the entire temple trembled and shook. Clinging to each other like spider monkeys, they watched the fearful statue begin to stretch and move until all the stone, vine, and age trembled away from rough goat fur and skin. With a grotesque hand, he pointed to the terrified couple, and boomed out in a terrible and angry voice.

_**"You have descecrated the temple with your foul human prescence. You shall recieve no punishment, but that life within you shall be lost!"**_

And within seconds, they were outside again, the temple completely disappeared. After they returned home, Mr. Lowan and his wailing wife resigned and moved into the quiet country. For three more months, the pregnancy seemed to go undisturbed. But everytime Mrs. Lowan felt the little infant inside kick, her face paled and she felt like vomiting. Whatever was in there did not feel human. And she could not have been more right.

When the day finally came, she couldn't go to the hospital. She begged her husband not to, fearing the worst. And after twelve painful, excruciating hours, something came out. And the Lowans both burst into tears at the sight of it, howling along with the hungry, frightened creature there. And it was nothing human.


	2. The Deal with Demons

Chapter One: The Deal with Demons

It had been seven years. Seven long, difficult years, but you weren't seven everyday.

Olivia Lowan clip-clopped across the the grassy fields of the farm her parents owned. Her upper body and face were lewd and petite, still in the childhood stages. Sharp, yellowed eyes looked eagerly at the strange van that had pulled into the gravelled driveway. Everything below her waist and on top of her head, could never be considered average for young girls.

The bottom half was that of a black goat, rough, dark hair and smooth hooves that hopped and trotted whenever she walked. From underneath her small dress a tiny tail wagged in excitement. Horns that poked out of dark, choppy hair showed signs of curling. If you had never known her as long as her parents did, you'd think she was a some changeling child. Her hands and fingernails were stained green from pulling up grass and playing in the vast field of her home, surround by forest and cut off from the city. Her dress was dusty from rolling around and her forehead sweaty and plastered with hair. Olivia didn't mind. She was just messy like that.

She looked curiously around the van, completely white and unadorned with any insignias. Usually her parents hid her upstairs when these came, saying that everyone else outside of home were potential to be dangerous. So she merely peeked through her curtains until the people left. But today was different. No calls to come inside, no shutting her up in her room, no warnings at all. She looked into the window of the driver's seat. A man's face was hidden behind a newspaper, ignoring his surroundings. Bored with this uninteresting person, she trotted to the back door. She was hungry from playing in the sun and fields all day.

She loudly banged the door open, and mischeviously grinned as she heard a yelp from the man in the van. Giggling madly at his shock, she looked around for her weary mother. She thought mothers must be odder than fathers, or at least hers was. Even when she was relaxed and doing nothing, she always looked tired. She barely smiled and often looked off dreamily at the sky. Truly, Olivia appreciated her mother. She cooked her favorite foods (fried shrimp and baked apples), read her stories and took care of her when she was sick. But there was always a tiny pang in Olivia's chest that she just couldn't name. It was like her mother's exhaustion. She could not name it.

Her father was a different story. He was awkward and distant, but he was very diligent on tradition. As a ritual, he plopped Olivia down on his lap for a lesson, whether it was reading, arthimetic, or history, which was more likely the topic. He'd try to talk other things with her, but would trail off in embarassment. This insighted her to use him as a source of impish entertainment. She would ask embarassing questions she already knew about, like where babies came from or what they meant by birds and bees. And seeing him flustered made her cackle with glee. She never pranked her mother, worried she would exhaust her energy even more than it already was depleted.

"Nyah! Momma! I'm hungry!" she chanted twirling around on her hooves. She picked up her stuffed dog Bouncer and began to dance with him childishly. Acting silly usually got her mom's attention, as she hurried to calm down her hyper child and poke grapes into her greedy mouth. Olivia proudly admitted she was mischevious and chatty, and dared anyone to try and outdo her at her games. She loved to tease her father, call upon her mother with a loud, squeaky voice, and get dirty playing outside, rain, snow or sun. So she was very irritated when no mother came, only a faint hush of conversation from the living room. Holding up Bouncer in the air, she ran to the source.

"MA! No time for hide-and-seek! I'm hungry!" she whined loudly, betraying her disappointment only with the wild grin on her face. But once she stepped into the living room, her smile washed away from her face forever.

Her mother looked happy. Happier than Olivia could ever remember her being. She was radiant, glowing with sentiment and holding her husband's hand in joyful abandon. For the first time, she looked upon her strange daughter with happiness. Her father seemed calm, but she could see the twitch in the corner of his lip that tried to contain overwhelming joy. She looked upon her parents in confusion, and then upon two strangers on the couch. One was elderly, maybe sixty or fifty. The other was fairly middle aged with a receding hairline and a stuffy disposition. They both wore professional suits and seemed to have been in the middle of something very important. And for the first time Olivia felt the creeping sense of fear tingle upon her spine. All her life she dreamt of meeting new people, but now all she wanted was to run back out to the fields and hide. She clung tightly onto the soft paw of Bouncer like a lifeline. Her mother gestured joviantly to her.

"Olivia! Come here my love. We were just talking about you." she said cheerfully, gesturing Olivia to come sit on her lap. But she couldn't move, she was paralyzed with fear. Mrs. Lowan looked puzzled for a moment before realizing.

"Oh! Of course! Olivia dearie this is Mr. Broom and Mr. Manning. They've come from a long way to come visit us."

Olivia noticed a significant difference between the two. Mr. Broom looked at her curiously, as if trying to asess her character. He nodded and smiled politely at her, as an uncle would to a niece. Mr. Manning however, wrinkled his nose at her faults; the ruffled hair, the grass stained clothes, and especially the goat features and the childish cling to Bouncer. Olivia began to tremble slightly. She felt as if they were about to rush her into a bag and carry her away.

"Olivia? Come on now."

She shook her head violently, planting her feet firmly on the threshold. Broom chuckled slightly, while Manning sneered at the display of terror.

"Shy little thing eh?" he said gruffly.

"Oh not at all," assured her father, walking over to Olivia, trying to coax her into a chair, "She's a bit sheltered but I assure you she's a good girl." Olivia winced at the way he spoke, like a man bragging about a good horse for selling. He tugged her shoulders but she refused to move. Her mother approached her too, kneeling and clasping her unoccupied, tiny hand with her two, soft ones.

"Olivia, these two men come from the Bureau of Paranormal Reasearch and Defense. They do a whole lot of good all over the world for paranormal cases," _'Paranormal cases?'_ though Olivia in horror, "And they've agreed to take you on as an future agent! Isn't that wonderful?"

And then all of the sudden, that familiar pang in her chest burst open the floodgates, bringing the entire truth open in a overwhelming wave. Why her mother always looked so tired. Why her father was always so ashamed. Why everytime someone was expected over she was shut away in her room. Olivia felt a horrible, disgust come up. They were selling her. The parents Olivia had come to trust and care about were selling her for being a freak.

"I said isn't it wonderful sweetie?"

Olivia was overcome with a horrible feeling of anger, tears welling up in her eyes. She yanked herself away violently and threw Bouncer angrily to the ground. Ignoring her mother and father's faces of shock and their cries for her to come back, she dashed away from the living room, out the back door, and away into the fields. And every step her hooves took, she felt a violent ripple quake through her tiny body, reminding her that no matter how far she ran or how long she stayed away, a deal was a deal. She would be forced back home, and eventually to the BPRD. She let the tears fall freely down her face as she ran, heaving sobs choking through her gasping throat. She finally collasped in the tall, tickling grass, pulling her horns in agony, as if to tear them off. She stayed there until the van had pulled away and all the lights in the house had turned down.

When she finally dragged her hairy legs up the stairs and collasped in her bed, short whimpers echoed through the room. She continued to cry for a month, despite desperate pleas from her parents. There was that one month of sorrow. And afterwards, ten years of bitterness.

She refused to eat anything they made, stubbornly making her own food, however burnt or distasteful. She no longer strived for their attention, although they begged for hers. She wouldn't talk to them unless in rebuke or with an acidic tone. She never smiled. She pulled horrid pranks on them, and yelled, ignoring her mother's tears and her father's feeble attempts to assert himself. For ten years it would have to go on until her seventeenth birthday, where she would be ready to join the ranks of the BPRD.

And for ten years...bitterness.


	3. A Disappearing Act

Chapter Two: A Disappearing Act

A cracked roar spilt the silence permeating the fields that night. Tree bark splintered and despaired under furious blows. Grass tore and ripped under the stamping and raging hooves as Olivia Lowan shamelessly howled and thrashed like a wild animal.

Ten years had been good to Olivia. No longer scrawny and petite as she was when she was but a little girl, her body became sharp and toned. Everyday, she ran around the fields with the air of a prancing goat, punched at defenseless trees until her knuckles became rough and tan with strength. Goat legs were healthy and well built with a thick sheen of rough hair. Her choppy hair had been kept short and pointed, with a porcupine-like quality. Teeth grew sharp and fierce like a cat. Horns grew large and curled, with all the power of the greatest ram on earth. Her clothes were short, baggy pants tightened with a leather belt and a black wifebeater. And her eyes, her golden snake eyes, always raged in anger.

When she could no longer stand the prescence of trembling, cowardly parents, or when they became especially irritating in her eyes, she would go out and show her power to the trees. Many times there was no need for them to make her mad. She just got mad all the time. Every since that day ten years ago, when her parents promised her as a future agent to the BPRD, all the familiar, childlike happiness was drained away. There was only two things to fill that void, anger and sadness. In the end, anger prevailed.

But tonight's rage was unusually unbridled. The reason is simple. It was Olivia's birthday.

Every birthday after "that day", birthdays became a nightmare. She was uncontrollable, inconsolable, and overall cruel. Her parents tried. They tried with all their might to calm their raging daughter. But it was exactly as the ram god had foretold. She was lost, lost to the wildness that had encased her betrayed soul.

Her mother was terrified of her new stregth. She believed it was part of the curse, so become so strong that no man could possibly conquer that beast within. Her father too felt defeated at the hands of his own child, his guilt and mistakes coming back again and again to tear him apart from the inside. All the couple could do in this ordeal was to watch. They were useless against the brute force and wild rage her daughter would unleash.

This birthday would be a record-breaker. It was her seventeenth birthday, the day before the BPRD would come bearing documents of all legal forms, packing up Olivia along with her belongings and whisking her away from the familiar woods and fields of her secluded home. Olivia had seen shows with cities and programs about everything outside, but being outside seemed an impossible task. Every time she tried to step over that border that seperated her land from the rest, she quaked from the inside, and turned back. Her parents didn't need electric fences. Their only triumph over Olivia was trapping her within herself. Her world would be robbed and replaced with another, all too violently. Once her parents made a deal with Manning, there was no backing out.

The bark smashing under Olivia's roughened hands barely twinged the tough skin. She bared teeth and shrieked into the open night. But all the release was about as effective as throwing a cotton ball at a steel wall. There was nothing to do but wait. If she refused to come willingly, the BPRD would no doubt catch her. They enlisted the aids of many fantastical beings and they were probably more than capable of capturing Olivia and dragging her by the hair all the way to New Jersey. She herself, strong and fierce as she was, would require several months of training before being allowed on missions or even being let outside.

She finally exhausted herself, and dragged her cloven hooves across long, sweet smelling grass. She didn't even make it to the house, but instead collasped on the soft bed of grass beneath her. She sighed in exhaustion, her breath coming out in small, tired pants. Nature was truly a wonder, forgiving and destructive, calming and frightening. She felt in her essence when she raced about it, taking in the wild scent of pines and sweetgrass, feeling soft earth tremble under mighty hooves, seeing the vast beauty of it. Beyond it laid the mountains which she knew to be called, "The Appalachians." She had never crossed the boundary of her home, but she did dream of it at night, prancing across the rocks and trees, splashing through its rivers, conquering the land and all who dared to claim it. It filled her with a strange estascy, and made her nights all the more appreciating. Though it hardly mattered now. She was trapped...

But was she?

A blinking light sudden flashed in her head, her eyes open in realization. What made her think she was trapped? There was no fence, no dogs to hunt her down, no SWAT team. The only guards were her quaking parents, easily overcome. And suddenly that invisible barrier seperating her from the rest of the world fell apart and shattered. She stood up with a crazed strength now electrifying her being into life. The world was open, free to explore beyond the reaches of the farm, with mountains and forests to climb and conquer. To live wildly...it brought back a strange repressed memory she never knew having...

There was a great circle of them, hooved and horned all. They cackled with glee as they grasped at beautiful gods and goddess, swinging them up and about in a wild and passionate dance. A billowing fire stood proudly in the center, slabs of meat skewered on sharp spears and roasting with a delicious scent. Baskets and baskets of fruit. Barrels of wine. Loaves pouring out of their plates. And a god, a mighty god, half ram, half man, sitting upon a great mountain, watching the festivities, a proud smirk upon his face as he drank from a roughly carved cup. All the noises came together in a hypnotic and intoxicating harmony, and Olivia saw herself among them...swinging around from the arms of handsome satyrs...

And then it faded, leaving her full of energy. Tonight, she would be unstoppable.

That same night, a plane soared over the farm in Ohio, close to landing in the airport in Cincinatti. In the crates, unbidden to passengers, two shadowed figures waited in anticipation to bring back their comrade to be...


	4. Hunting Satyrs

Chapter Three: Hunting Satyrs

In the next morning, a familiar white, unadorned van had begun driving up a deteriorating road. In the front seat, a new driver sat, peering across the dashboard of the car, hoping he wasn't lost. The van rattled down the road as it grew rougher and rougher, homes starting to become rarer in his sight. Trees lined crumbling stone fences with great green fields in between. An exceptionally large pothole caused the entire vehicle to bounce uncomfortably. A loud grunt issued from the back as a gruff voice called out from the back.

"Watch those potholes Meyers. Its not all that roomy back here as it is."

"Sorry Red."

John Meyers, slightly matured from his work and adventures with the BPRD, was on his way to the Lowan house in order to retrieve the new recruit, Olivia Lowan. They had been told by Manning that it would be obvious why she was picked when they met, since no picture was available. With the field agents Hellboy, Abe, and Liz in their van, they took the strenous country road to the reclusive farm in Ohio. Finally spotting a farmer on the side of the road with his tractor, he decided to stop and ask for directions. Pulling over and opening his window, John signalled to the farmer, who turned off his rumbling tractor.

"Excuse me? Is this the right way to the Lowan house?"

The farmer paled slightly at the mention of Lowan. Looking both ways, as if afraid a monster was hiding somewhere, he leaned in with a whisper.

"Are you sure you wanna go there sonny?"

"Er, yes. It's very urgent sir." The farmer merely frowned.

"I'd watch my back up there if I were you. All kinds of weird stuff comes from up there."

"Weird stuff? Like what?" John had seen his share of "weird stuff" and was curious to see what local gossip had to say on the said subject. The farmer shivered.

"Strange stuff...like howls in the middle of the night...and some campers thought they saw weird marks on th trees and freaky footprints. If you keep going down this road you'll find the Lowans all right, but watch that you find nothing else." Turning on his engine, he rumbled on down as quickly as he could, turning away from the road leading to the supposed accursed place. John continued on down, before turning to the crew in the back.

"Weird stuff huh?" A snort of disbelief, probably Hellboy, emitted from the back.

"I'd like to see something stranger than what we've already seen."

"There's always a first," chimed Abe.

When John finally pulled up, the Lowan couple greeted him warmly and hurriedly. They welcomed him inside, and John had to leave the agents in the van, not wanting to surprise them quite yet with Olivia's new comrades. Mrs. Lowan brought out fresh coffee and they took a seat in the kitchen. They explained that Olivia was still in her room, probably prepping for her new life. The couple expressed their gratitude that they were able to find a place for their daughter to build herself a future. John accepted the coffee and the thank yous, but remained wary. Their expressions were nervous, almost desperate. They couldn't be this eager to have their only child go could they?

"O-Olivia? It's time." called her mother. She was met with silence. She looked nervous and quizzical at her husband, who shrugged shakily. She tried again as John looked curiously upstairs.

"Olivia? Come on now." Nothing. Face paling, she quickly ascended the stairs, Mr. Lowan and John following. She knocked tepidly at the door.

"Olivia? Sweetie are you there?"

More knocks. With one look at her husband for luck, she cautiously opened the door.

It was empty. No fluttering, disfigured daughter fussing over her bags. The room was simply empty. Most of the clothes stil hung in the wardrobe, but other things had gone missing. First aid, pocketknives, and other tools. But as the Lowans looked upon the wall in shock, there was a mixed reaction. Mrs. Lowan fainted into her husband's arms as he yelled at John to do something. Astounded, John dashed back to the van and swung open the doors. The surprised agents looked at him in asessment as he panted from running out of the house.

"Olivia's gone! A lot of her stuff isn't in her room and well...well come see!"

Without another encouragement they piled out of the van and hurried up the stairs, unnoticed by Mr. Lowan attending to his unconscious wife. As they climbed into the doors, they saw the shocking message carved into the wall above the open window.

GOODBYE

Manning was furious. Ten years of waiting and Olivia chose now to make a break for it. He yelled some on the phone at the apologetic parents before turning onto the agents.

"There was an agreement that _must_ be adhered to. She _must_ be found. _Or else_!"

Hellboy was pissed off mostly at Manning. If he wanted another agent so bad he could come and scour the forest for Olivia himself. But Olivia was the one who ran away and therefore a source of irritation as well. Abe sighed as Manning lost his temper, again. Liz ran a hand through her hair. This would be a pain. The parents were brought into the living room. The agents needed answers.

"There's something you're not choosing to tell us. Why did Olivia run off the day she knew she had to go?"

The parents looked ashamed and completely riddled with guilt. Fiddling with their hands, they began to explain.

"Our Olly, wasn't made the normal way. She was born with pregnancy like other human babies..." Mr. Lowan explained shakily, "But with a curse. When she came out, she looked like this," He pulled out a photo.

It was of Olivia when she was seven, some months before "the incident". She was in her father's lap, his arms wrapped under little arms. Her goat legs swung out from her small dress and her growing horns jabbed into the space below his stubbly chin. She had an impish grin, golden eyes tinkling slightly. They pased it around, smiling slightly at the sweet youth. When Abe handed it back to Mr. Lowan, he peered through him curiously.

"There's a good reason why you have no more pictures of Olivia?"

Her father paled again, turning over the photo blankly in his hands.

"Olivia...just started to hate us." He quaked under the shocked eyes of the agents. How could a child come to hate their parents?

"When we arranged a future job for Olivia, she became very angry and wild. She wouldn't eat anything we made, pulled pranks and ran off for hours at a time. She just got angrier and stronger, and we couldn't do anything." This time the mother spoke, clutching a hand to her mouth in disgust, thinking about her wild child. Hellboy looked at them with an appraising look. Then suddenly standing up, he moved for the door. The Lowans stuttered...not even making a understandable sentence. Hellboy simply looked back and replied simply.

"If she won't come to us, we'll come to her,"

It was exhilarating. With a fast pace Olivia darted across the thick foliage ripping through bushes and trampling plants in her way. A rucksack was strapped across her back as she galloped in the direction of powerful mountains. It drew her like a fly to honey, with an allure that could only be described as addictive. Her hooves rumbled like thunder against the earthy floor of the forest, scattering dirt in their steps. The mountains looked so close, teasing her with their prescence. She was almost there...

But a single shot snapped her out of the dreamy reverie.

Shocked, she skidded to a halt, sending a wave of earth out from the unpredictable stop. A twinge in her arm rang with the buzz in her ears from the unusually loud noise, and she realized she had been grazed by a bullet. Pounding footsteps behind her. She twirled around and saw the shadowed figure of a massive with sawed horns and red skin...

"Don't you have somewhere to be kid?"


	5. When All Dreams End

Chapter Four: When All Dreams End

Armed to the teeth with defense and subduing gear, Myers and Abe headed ahead to cut off Olivia's trail while Liz and Hellboy went to stop her escape. Abe and John waited in position , making final adjustments to their net trap. Abe was fiddling with the cooling settings on his water preserver as John loaded up a round of paralyzing bullets. A buzzing soon rang through both the headphones they wore.

"We've spotted the target, Red's closing in. Stay in position unless she changes course" Liz's voice spoke through.

"Affirmative."

With a slight snarl at the strange man, Olivia took backward steps. No doubt a dog from the Bureau.

"Listen kiddo," he began with a rough voice, "Just cool your jets. We don't need to get ugly here," Olivia wrinkled her nose at the smoke that floated from his cigar, making her look even more vicious. She felt her hair stand up on end, and with her short, choppy hair, she imagined she looked like an agitated porcupine. She had never let anyone boss her around since she was seven, and she refused to let that change so quickly. Leaping as far as she could, she darted off through the woods again, ignoring her bleeding arm, her opponent's gun, and the fact he was twice her size. She barely heard him sigh in annoyance, before an audible pair of footsteps came pounding from behind...wait, a pair?

With an ear-splitting crack, an enormous explosion sent Olivia flying.

Howling she slammed into a tree and fell smoking to the ground. From the burning sting on her arm, the burns weren't permanent, but still sent sharp pains up her arm as they scratched at the sharp foliage and bark. Snapping her head up, she saw someone else, a woman with a burning hand. The red demon patted her on the back.

"Nice shot Sparky,"

"Don't mention it,"

Wincing, Olivia clambered back onto her feet and stood her ground. If they wanted a fight...

The woman made a move to fire again before a giant stone hand stopped her in her tracks. Crushing the burning cigar, he stepped foward. If Olivia was going to join their ranks, he may as well figure out what she was made of. Holstering away his gun, he charged. Olivia followed at suit and ran headfirst, intending to knock the wind out of him. But as he lifted his enormous right hand-

CRACK

With an echoing shriek Olivia was clutching at her left horn. Flakes of bone snowed down and caught in her eyelashes as she thrashed in pain. While her right horn managed to escape to blow, the sheer force of his stone hand had fractured her horn. She felt a deep dent in the horn which sent out electric waves of pain and she flailed and trembled at the man's feet. She felt him approach her as she shuddered away, desperate to keep him away, to escape. A sharp needle pricked into her neck, and then...darkness...

Liz frowned. Hellboy could be awfully rough.

"Someone's gonna be cranky in the morning," Hellboy muttered smugly, lighting up another cigar. Liz rolled her eyes at his pride and contacted Abe and Myers. Target captured. She pulled out a blanket and rolled up Olivia gently.

As Myers and Abe gathered up their makeshift net, shaking out leaves and small branches, Myers inquired Abe of something that plagued him since their arrival.

"Why do you think the Lowans want Olivia gone so badly?" Abe thought about John's question for a moment before shrugging slightly.

"It's hard to say, I looked into the Lowans memories, and apparently Olivia didn't see this new opportunity as well as they did. Perhaps they merely wished for someone...well, you know..."

"Normal," John finished. He had seen the picture of the young Olivia, and to have a child like that would be hard for any parent.

"Do you think they ever even tried?" Myers asked. Abe looked off towards the house, barely visible through the trees.

"I don't believe I ever checked."

They made their way quickly to Hellboy and Liz, who already had Olivia down and wrapped in a long blanket of coarse fabric, drugged and unconscious. Abe looked curiously at their catch. Awake he was sure she was fierce, and even in sleep her eyebrows furrowed in anger, teeth bared as a faint, sleepy growl trembled from her throat. Pressing his hand lightly agaisnt the back of her neck, feeling tickling hairs, he probed.

Visions flashed and vanished like flipping channels on a TV. A small Olivia, clambered in her father's lap. Manning and Broom in a living room with her parents as they revealed their promise. A crying Olivia curled up in the forest. Bark flying as she unleashed her rage on nearby trees. Lifting his hand from her neck, he felt as if he was betraying this suffering creature. But even as they walked away from the woods and loaded everything into the trucks, even as Abe saw Olivia's mother from the window, crying and trembling slightly at the sight of her only child being packed away forever, Abe knew that all was as it was. There was simply nothing to be done.


	6. Trapped

Chapter Five: Trapped

It was that dream again. The dream that filled Olivia with such unbelievable drive. With dancing satyrs, overflowing plates of succulent, and the giant ram god sitting atop the mountain, pleased to watch his subjects dance away their troubles and drown their cares in the endless rivers of wine. The music that seemed to come from nowhere drew a distant Olivia closer to their party, the giant fire luring Olivia like a moth to the flame. She reached for the strong hands of handsome satyr youths... only to see chains. Gaping as an invisible force pulled her cuffed arms back into penetrating darkness, the party faded farther away as she pulled into the dark. A cage formed out of nowhere, and even as she rammed and clawed with all her might, there was no escape...

No escape...

"How's she doin' back there?" Hellboy asked as he reclined in his seat, the van now bouncing back down the desolate road to civilization once more. Abe had applied antibiotic cream to the cuts and burns on her body as well as her horn, wrapping it up in a plaster. It would heal, but it would hurt for a while. Liz helped in putting restraints on her hands and feet, and now that all the wounds outside were checked over, Abe performed a diagnostic test to make sure nothing went wrong inside. A steady pulse, healthy blood pressure, and no dislocated joints confirmed that excluding the burns, scratches, and fracture on her horn, she was in perfect health.

"Very healthy. Banged up yes, but with proper treatment she'll be butting heads with you again I dare say." Hellboy chuckled before lighting up another cigar. Once they arrived at the airport Abe would need to apply another dose of chloroform to keep her asleep during the flight back to the Bureau, unless she proved more resistant to the drug when they arrived. Were that the case, he'd have to be in the same crate to insure she didn't go berserk on the flight. He hoped not, he'd prefer to read his new book and listen to the classics rather than watch over a wild child.

But damn she was stubborn.

Ten minutes before they arrived at the airport, she began to wake up, twitching her hands in growing anger, teeth becoming more and more clenched. Abe muffled a steadily growing growl with a cloth damp with chloroform. He hated to force Olivia into submission, but it was essential she came back to the Bureau. There, Manning was the boss, and what Manning says, goes. With one last defiant twitch, Olivia finally fell back into the drug-induced sleep, and Abe lifted the smelly cloth from her nose again.

"It'll be interesting to see her in the work field," Hellboy commented after the small bout of resistance.

"You'll have to wait a while. Manning insisted that Olivia was trained for a month or two before being allowed on the field. And after today I won't be surprised if she gets grounded." Liz said, not looking away from the new comrade. She was relieved before at the news of another female being taken on, what with all her comrades being men. But after today she doubted she'd get much help from Olivia. If anything, she could make everything worse.

Hellboy found it all very intriguing. Olivia would obviously place him as public enemy number one, unless Manning beat him in that department. With the new change in environment, Olivia would have to adjust from her natural settings and come up with new ways to survive. If anything, Olivia would become a worthwhile comrade, or at least fuel the general amusement. Unfortunately for her, nothing beat the Right Hand of Doom.

Once loaded up and in the air, Abe made sure that Olivia was firmly cuffed and wrapped up before reading to his book, turning on a handy booklight. Every few minutes he looked over and checked that Olivia remained asleep. At every twitch, he took no risks and pressed the chloroform cloth to her mouth. It happened every so often, and Abe found his attention having to be almost constantly on Olivia. Luckily, it was a short flight as everyone was loaded back into a van again and back at the Bureau. Just as Liz had predicted, Manning decided solitary confinement for one month was proper punishment before she began training. She was carted off gingerly by agents and locked up in a room similarly built to Hellboy's.

It wasn't long before a loud screech of rage pentrated the usual peace at the Bureau.

Even from the safety of their rooms, it was hard to miss the shrieks and crashes that echoed from the tightly locked door. No doubt Olivia was getting "acquainted" with the furniture. In any case, Manning wouldn't be coming around as long as her rage was audible.

Inside the locked room, Olivia was enflamed with fury. All that work to escape, and all that strength to subdue her foe, and all she got was a locked room and a cracked horn. The room had one light, no windows, and smelled of chemical cleaner that made Olivia want to vomit. Even if she did manage to take down the door, how would the outside be any different? She could smell it already, the air soaked with wasted gases, plastic trees propped up everywhere, the topsoil dry and dusty, with no quality! If home was anywhere, it most definitely wasn't here! Grabbing her new bed by the posts, she threw it at the door, satisfied to hear it crack and shatter, but even more furious to see it barely scratched the door.

The destructive noises continued to echo from Olivia's now ruined room for two more hours, afterwards she simply screamed herself hoarse. She'd simply run out of furniture. Defeated and exhausted, both mentally and physically, she took up the ripped sheets and blankets and made a makeshift nest to curl up in. She panted for a long while before finally feeling dizzy with sleep. But since her horrorfic dream from her capture, she was afraid, afraid for the first time since she was little. Fear drove from the idea that she may never be able to run in vast fields, or gallop in the naturally scented woods, or be able to actually walk outside again. No doubt she'd be dissected and injected with all kinds of horrid drugs. Trembling like a rabbit before a wolf, she eased herself to sleep.

Since she met her new comrades, she had not spoken one true word to them yet.


	7. When It All Falls Apart

Chapter Six: When It All Falls Apart

For the next few weeks, Olivia felt more dead than alive.

Furniture was not replaced, in the case she decided to break them all over again. Food slipped in through a small slip on a tray, but Olivia had never eaten anything that she didn't make since she was seven, and she didn't start. All of it went uneaten, excluding pieces of fruit which she cut up for a makeshift salad and the drinks that came along. With nothing to throw around and a throat too sore and scratchy to shout, she had to settle for pacing around fervently and snapping the remainders of her once whole furniture. She organized things, carefully picking up glass and stowing it away so she wouldn't step on it and use it for a knife. Wooden pieces too big to snap were laid out carefully, like firewood. She had matches, but in case the smoke caused her to suffocate she kept them away in the connecting bathroom. She moved her "nest" to the tub, and arranged it until she fit snugly inside. For baths she lifted it out, bathed, dried the tub and set up her bed again.

Very soon she ran out of things to do.

Her last shout that had cracked out of her hoarse voice on her first day seemed to silence everything else. Whenever she tried to say something to herself, it choked and came out as a squawk. The sheer shock of her forced arrival had taken a toll for the worse. If she wasn't mysteriously exhausted, she was shaky and jittery. She would twitch and jerk violently for hours at a time. And what was worse is that she'd actually forgotten what she looked like.

A hand mirror was in the bathroom, stashed away and wrapped up in a towel. While she was dying to remember what she looked like, it was terrifying. With all the dark corners, barely illuminated by the hanging light, she expected something poisonous to creep out and change everything in her sleep. It had been two weeks since she had last seen a real tree or real grass, or smelled fresh air. When she slept, she would remember that beautiful scenery and reach out, only to feel the cold tiles of the bathroom.

She was frantic. She examined the door up down and sideways, but not even an ant could squeeze through. The hair on her head grew long and wild, she had a comb but could barely get it through the mess. She was afraid to use the glass. Her horn and scrapes had healed, but as she put a hand up to the once cracked horn, she still felt the dent, and wondered if that first mark of defeat meant she was truly gone. She pulled her hand away, and let it trail down her face.

But it was not her hand. It couldn't be.

The hand was bony, nails cracked and chipped. The skin was pulled taunt and pale, her toughened knuckles standing out like leather on satin. Her palms were red and peeling. She felt at her face, and nothing felt the same. She felt like a lion wrapped in a monkey's skin. Desperate to assess the damage, she finally gathered up the nerve to pull the mirror from the towel and looked at her face. But it wasn't her face. It wasn't even close.

What was once a strong, sharp face, was dull, defeated. Her hair flopped about her face like a mourning veil, and her teeth looked lopsided, like the had lost their way. Her eyes were baggy and looked like they were falling out of their sockets. Her face was wide in horror and disbelief. Olivia had never seen such a defeated looking person in her life. It was like the room. Everything was falling apart.

The mirror dropped with a crash to the floor as she stumbled backwards out of the bathroom. Her heart beat furious and wild in her chest as she fell backwards onto the floor. She was unconscious before she even hit the floor.

Outside of Olivia's tiny world of madness, anxiousness ran high. Hellboy was angry, even he was treated better at the Bureau and he had been older and much more adapted when it happened to him. But Olivia, understandably she was mad when her parents gave her away, but she was still young. She hadn't had outside contact for three weeks now. What happened inside was a mystery. Abe did routine checks on the door to ensure she was alive and healthy, but it was all barely so. She was in a juncture between the tormentors and those they tortured.

Abe was the worst about it. He had been requested to do daily check-ups to insure Olivia had not gone to extreme measures to rid herself of the torturous chamber, placing his hand periodically on the door. And everyday, beyond laid a creature so defeated, the Hellboy had hardly needed to crack her horn. She was forming cracks all by herself...falling apart like broken glass. And as he laid his hand everyday to feel that wretched, tortured prescence, it was even harder to lift it and confirm that she was alright...because she hardly was that.

That ay, he scarcely was halfway down the corridor leading to her room when he heard the smash. Looking quizzically at Liz and John, whom accompanied him everytime as a security measure, he hurried down the hall. Hurrying to the door, he slapped a hand to the door, before instantly whipping it back.

"Olivia's in critical condition! Nervous breakdown-go, go, go!"

Without needing another moment, they quickly unlocked the door. The room was a strange mix between orderliness and chaos. In the madness laid the culprit, face wide with horror and shock as her heart thudded violently in her chest. Picking her up by her legs and arms, Liz and John rushed her to the infirmary. Abe remained behind to look over the damage Olivia had caused. The wood had been gathered in a corner, the glass in another. The bathroom door remained wide open, the broken remains of a hand mirror shattered on the cold tile. Abe cautiously picked up a large shard, and saw for an instance, the terrified face of Olivia. He set it down and walked hurriedly to his tank.

Although he did nothing, he felt like he had sealed a noose around Olivia's neck.


	8. Unbidden Memories

Chapter Seven: Unbidden Memories

Manning was in a tight spot. Although he had effectively gotten Olivia in the clutches of the BPRD, she hung by a thread. With the nervous breakdown putting all his plans of training and detention back, he had to figure out an easier option. Although stablized in the medical center, Manning had to play his cards very carefully from now on.

The building buzzed like a hive. In between missions, the crew nervously eyed the room in the medical ward containing a stressed, sleeping, Olivia. It had been three days since the breakdown, and her room had been carefully scoured for any clues to her habits, hoping to build a far more stress free environment. As the remaining three agents individually attempted to comfort the sleeping Olivia, the said victim stayed blissfully unconscious. In their own ways, they attempted to ease the raging mind of Olivia.

Liz, using a feminine approach, came daily to brush out the choppy locks around the grooved horns. She was pleased to see the crack healing nicely, soon it would only be a faint line in the horn. Brushing her hair was difficult, it grew wild and messy all over the place. She kept it up every morning, even after having to buy a new brush after a particularly large knot broke the last one. She also took charge of keeping her bathed. It was quite odd to bathe someone with goat legs. She expected to use shampoo on the goat fur too, but it was useless as it repelled the shampoo stubbornly, staying thick and shiny on its own. Plus, Olivia was fairly built. Strings of muscles lined her narrow chest and pulsed from her arms and back. Liz would never mention to Hellboy that it was only slightly impressive, he wouldn't be able to hold back his smirk.

Myers too appealed to a gentler method, going on several occasions to read from interesting history books and mythology, trying to reach into the subconscious and lure Olivia back with dramatic stories. Other times he simple sat there and talked quietly. He hadn't exchanged two word with Olivia, but he found it upsetting that she had suffered like that as a kid. Liz knew it well enough and Abe and Hellboy were already a secret of the government. Myers simply wanted to reach out and understand that foreign pain. In between a busy schedule, he at least managed to drop by for a good look at Olivia with a few encouraging words to spare.

Hellboy, angry at Manning for the unfair treatment to Olivia, had been outright defiant. He let himself be seen in public, disobeyed orders and was overall disrespectful. He even posted up a target board with Manning's face on it. After committing these acts of defiance, he went over and told the comatose Olivia about them. He hoped that it could crack a grin, and mybe even wake her up. Even though it didn't Hellboy found it nice to find someone to brag to. He liked plopping down in the hospital chair next to the bed, proudly boasting as he drank at beer cans. He hoped that at the very least, he would soon see a tiny twitch at the corners of Olivia's mouth. On a good day, he hoped even for a small chuckle.

Abe however was in possession of the most important job.

Under strict orders from Manning, he had normal psychological sessions with Olivia, trying to lure her back into consciousness. Sometimes he recieved fuzzy memories, otherwise, complete silence. Whatever it was Olivia was hiding, she was hiding well. But nonetheless, he continued each day to set a hand upon her sweaty forehead in hopes of finding something...anything...

And Olivia hadmore than enough.

In the deep recess of her mind, she hung, like a marionette forgotten by it's player. Small, fuzzy pictures floated in fragments, like broken pieces of a mirror. She squinted and could see a little more clearly as she leaned closer towards them. Their visions flashed, blurred, and played like a TV and repeated. Flash, blur, play. Flash, blur, play. There may have been a million. She couldn't tell. She never found math useful. She tried moving by swimming towards them like a fish, hooves kicking carefully in the air. She moved. She grasped carefully at one one of the fragments. She fell back and gasped as a memory invaded her vision.

_She was seven. It was her birthday. But unlike a normal child, cooing happily by a cake, surrounded by friends, family, and presents, she was in her room screaming angrily as her mother helplessly tried to restrain her._

_"Olivia! Olvia please-"_

_"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! I hate you!" She kept it up, as her mother tried to push her down into her bed. A small tray of waffles, orange juice, and fruit sat by a bedside table. Olivia was still in her pajamas, a small night dress, light and airy. Her face was red with rage. Her mother gasped and cried out in pain as she fell back. Olivia's hooves had just struck her in the stomach. Unsatisfied with her mother's physical pain, she threw the tray at the wall, food scattering across the floor and juice staining the wallpaper. Her mother's face was white as a sheet as she ran trembling from the room..._

"I hate you..."

Olivia was jerked back into the darkness. The memory had disappeared, and she was shocked to hear her own words.

Abe was sitting with a book in hand by Olivia's bed. He hadn't found anything earlier, but thought it safe to monitor her for a while. As his book reached the climactic moment, a tiny groan, pained and angry, slithered from the restrains of Olivia's throat. Abe jumped up at the small noise and saw Olivia's face, twisted and tormented with hidden rage.

"I....huh....haaateee....youuu...." she moaned. She twitched again, and then laid silent. Abe jumped up like he was just zapped before running to tell the others. The words hadn't been good ones, but it was progress from her lying silent as death.

They quickly gathered in her sickroom. She had begun to twitch and shows signs of life. Tiny, almost inaudible murmurs echoed from beyond her lips before dying. Although worried, they were slightly estatic she was regaining ground.

"As soon as she's awake, Manning's getting a good talking to." growled Hellboy. "And a celebratory drink too."

"Don't encourage her to drink, she's underage," scolded Liz, punching him lightly in the shoulder.

"I think she might be reoccuring memories," said Abe, "Since she was in a nervous breakdown, her mind fragmented itself to protect itself. She merely needs to put the pieces back together is all.

"How long will it take?" asked Myers tenatively.

"Not sure. It's several years of memory after all."


End file.
